


One Night in Asgard

by amaliastale



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cold, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, King Loki, Loki's Dirty Whispers Winter 2013 Fanfiction Contest, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaliastale/pseuds/amaliastale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And now for something completely different, a Loki story.  Starring you, the reader, as the lucky lady who gets plowed by the super-handsome Norse god Loki.  Have fun with that!</p>
<p>I originally wrote this for the Loki's Dirty Whispers (http://lokis-dirty-whispers.tumblr.com/) winter fanfic contest on tumblr.  I owe them one, it was the first time I ever submitted a fic to a contest :)  Check out the website.  It is... addictive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night in Asgard

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Loki's Dirty Whispers Winter 2013 Fanfiction Contest](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/17371) by lokis-dirty-whispers. 



Wearing a plain cotton tank top and a boring pair of cotton underpants, Reader stood at the bathroom sink brushing her teeth and plotting another dreary winter’s Saturday of comic books, movies and hot cocoa.  Hearing a small noise, she glanced up and was astonished to discover a mysterious woman in ethereal white raiment reflected behind her in the mirror.  As Reader gaped, toothbrush dangling from her mouth, the woman said in a clear, melodious lilt, “Hail, Child of Midgard!    I am a herald of Asgard and I come bearing a most important message: Your king has requested an audience with you.” 

Reader furrowed her brow.  She certainly knew of the king, Loki, who had conquered the Earth violently and without mercy.  But she did not believe he was evil.  He was just… damaged, and Reader frequently wished that she could have the chance to heal him.  Reader spat in the sink and could only manage to cough out a mystified, “Why?” 

“It is not mine to question, only to do.  Please, come.”  The messenger extended her hand toward Reader, who judged that it would be unwise to rebuff one as notoriously volatile as Loki. 

“I… Let me just get dressed.”

The messenger shook her head, “No, I think not.  He will prefer you like this.”  She smiled encouragingly and pleaded again, imploring with her outstretched hand. 

Reader grabbed it and, with a rush, found herself in the vestibule of an unearthly palace.  The messenger opened a pair of imposing gold doors and prodded Reader into the room beyond.  Placing her hand on Reader’s shoulder, she warned, “You would do well to please him, girl,” and stepped back to the antechamber.  The doors shut behind her with a heavy thud and Reader was left, in her skivvies, beneath a grand rotunda. 

As Reader shifted to evaluate her new surroundings, she came to realize that she was not alone.  A great dais dominated the heart of the hall, atop which a helmeted man reclined upon a stately throne, looking bored.  Reader recognized him immediately as the alluring and dangerous god-king Loki.  He straightened up, gestured languidly toward her and said softly, “Come here, little lamb.”

Reader crossed her arms over her chest, shielding her body from his leer, and edged forward timidly.  So often she had dreamed of him; she recalled interminable nights, unable to sleep and consumed by carnal visions of the all the dirty things she would like to do to the dashing god.  Standing before him with her hair uncombed, wearing only her dullest underclothes, was never how she had pictured it.  After what seemed like an endless approach to the throne, she arrived at the foot of the steps, where she paused uncertainly.  Loki considered her before he spoke again.

“You know who I am, of course.”

With a nod, Reader said, “Yes, of course, my king.”

“Then you must be very nervous.”  He flashed a wide, roguish smile. 

Reader remained quiet.  Loki’s brutality and ruthlessness were legendary.  In spite of her infatuation, in spite of all her countless fantasies, still she found that she was afraid.  Loki interrupted her thinking with another question, “Do you know why you are here?”

“No, my king.”

“I want to fuck you,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “And I always do what I want, my dear,” he assured her, with a grin.

Unnerved by his bluntness, Reader sheepishly scrutinized her bare feet.  The air was pregnant with an uneasy silence until she summoned the courage to ask, “Why me?”

“You are beautiful in ways you don’t understand…  But what sets you apart is how ardently you desire me.  I have observed you, squirming in your bed, fingers sticky from your own desperate, frantic fondling… I can hear every scream of my name from your wanton lips.  That is a king’s greatest tribute.”  He paused, gauging her reaction, before he added, _“I know what fantasies run through your mind late at night. All you need to do is ask.  Simply ask, and I will make them all come true.  All that you’ve imagined and more._ Would you like that?”     Reader’s cheeks burned but her smile betrayed her acquiescence, and he answered it with his own. 

“Oh, but I knew you would.  A virgin indulgence fit for a king,” he sighed. 

Reader’s head snapped up, “But my king… I’m not a virgin,” she admitted, her voice tinged with trepidation, mindful of his explosive disposition and fearful that this revelation might provoke his ire.

“You have been with men?” he asked coolly.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever been with a god?”

“No.”

He snorted, “Then you know nothing of what it is to be fucked.   You are as good as a virgin to me.”  He rose and leisurely descended the stairs as he elaborated, _“These mortal men do not know how to please a woman, do not waste your time with them my sweet. Let a god show you what true pleasure is and by sunrise tomorrow you will want no one but me.”_

“My king,” Reader rejoined winsomely, returning his stare as he stood in front of her, “I have not wanted anyone but you since I first saw you.”

Loki chuckled.  “Ah, so amusing, so charming with your words.  I wonder, what other talents hide behind those lovely lips?” he mused.  He rested his hands on her elbows and tugged at her folded arms.  Pouting, he scolded, “Come now; don’t hide from your king.” 

She dropped her arms obediently and he appraised her figure, fixating on her camisole, the flimsy fabric taught against her nipples, stiff with cold and excitement.  His knuckles grazed the supple contour of her breast as he spoke, “Are you as talented as you are obliging?” 

He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear and breathed, “Kneel for me.” 

When Reader knelt, Loki reached down and traced one finger along her jaw line, tilting her chin up to study her face.  “You admit to me your willingness, yes?”  Reader offered a coy nod and he continued, “Now show me your skill and suck me dry.  Show me,” he repeated, dropping her chin and unfastening his garments. 

His penis sprang forth, swollen and scarlet in contrast to the pale of his thighs and his tangle of black pubic hair.  The pungent, masculine smell of his crotch tickled her nose and Reader inhaled greedily, increasingly aware of the fire blazing between her own legs.  Loki hissed urgently, _“Do you see what you do to me? How it strains toward you? Touch it, touch me. Please. I give myself up entirely to you. I want to know what it’s like to come undone by your hands.”_

He caressed the back of her head as she brought her lips tentatively to the velvety tip of his erection.  Wrapping one hand around his hard shaft, she slowly began to stroke up and down, savoring its warm, throbbing thickness and reveling in the exhilarating power that she knew she had over the god at that instant.  Cradling his balls in her other hand, she began to lap hungrily at the head of his prick, diving and bobbing, deftly painting her tongue along the length of every ridge and vein.  When she allowed him passage into her mouth, he let out a low, guttural groan and pushed forcefully deeper.  He drove his hips eagerly against her face and Reader choked and gagged, her eyes watering.  As he hammered himself roughly in and out of her mouth, the god’s breathing grew labored and his grip tightened on Reader’s hair until it hurt just a bit.  “Swallow,” he snarled, and with a sudden spasm he cried out, sharp and strangled and harsh. 

She felt his seed hit the back of her throat and, as Loki withdrew his pulsing cock from her lips, Reader was left with the faint aftertaste of snowmelt.  Stroking her hair, he met her gaze and purred, “Mmm, yes, you have proven yourself well thus far, pet.  But you know not what you are in for, I’m afraid.  Go to the antechamber.  You will be escorted to my bed to await my arrival.”  Readjusting his robes, he took her hand and guided her to her feet. “Only then will you learn what lies in store for you.”   

Reader bowed demurely and made to exit, but on a coquettish whim, she turned back and caught his eye once more, “I look forward to it, my king.”  With a sly smile, she spun on her heel and strode out of the hall as the god’s rich laughter echoed behind her.

 

Listless, Reader sulked on the corner of a plush bed in the chambers of the king.  She had travelled here time and again in her imagination, and to witness it in person had thrilled her.  But that had been—how long ago, now?  Hours, it seemed.  With a frustrated sniff, Reader threw herself back on the silk sheets, entertaining fantasies of her king’s magnificent body until she soon drifted into a restless doze.  Sometime later, roused by the click of a door, Reader awoke to see Loki standing above her.  With a start she sat upright, smoothing her hair, flustered that he had come upon her in this disheveled state.  “My king!” she exclaimed, delighted and mortified in equal measure.

“Tonight, mortal, call me Loki,” he winked flirtatiously, sitting beside her.

“I’ve been waiting, Loki,” moaned Reader in kittenish torment as she lunged for him, throwing her arms about his shoulders.  Without hesitation she mounted his lap, straddling his knee, brazenly grinding it with her hips and covering his neck ravenously with kisses.

“I just hope you’re not too sleepy, for I plan on keeping you awake all night,” he teased, blowing playfully into her ear and causing Reader to shiver.

 “Gooseflesh,” he smirked, his fingertips dancing lightly across the prickled skin of her arm, up to the nape of her neck and down along her ribcage.

 Halting at the bottom of her camisole, he grasped the hem and lifted upwards.  Reader held her arms aloft, allowing him to ease it over her head and cast it aside.  He briefly paused to drink in the sight of her exposed breasts, but then he was upon her, groping wildly at her bosom, pinching and sucking at her nipples, kneading, squeezing, and ravishing every accessible inch.  Reader squeaked with bliss; after such an agonizing wait, at last—she would be his!  At last, he would be hers.

Abandoning his worship of her breasts, Loki trailed one finger down her abdomen, lingering on the waistband of her panties.  He confided, “I, too, have been waiting,” as he slipped the finger just under the elastic.  “All day I have been dreaming of getting my hands on that lovely little Midgardian cunt of yours.”  He cupped his palm against her damp crotch. 

Reader flinched, her face flushed, embarrassed by his coarseness.  “Oh, you don’t like that word,” Loki scoffed, “It makes you blush.  Well that’s what I like about it.  You look so pretty when you blush.”  He moved her onto the bed next to him and hooked one finger on her panties, pulling them aside and surveying her nakedness admiringly, **“** _My, my.  Look how wet you are for me, my little pet.  Is it my voice?  My touch?  Tell me, what makes you so aroused for my attention?”_

He studied her, eyebrows raised expectantly.  But just as Reader opened her mouth to reply, Loki’s fingers invaded her underwear, jabbing and rubbing in rough, frenzied circles all over her most delicate places.  Abruptly, he stabbed two fingers deep inside her and Reader squealed.  He pumped his fingers in and out, massaging her slick walls, his thumb toying expertly with her distended clitoris.   

“Beg,” he growled, yanking impatiently at her panties, “Beg me to claim that mortal quim.” 

Accommodatingly Reader raised her hips, permitting him to strip them off and toss them away.  “Fuck me!  Loki, please,” she mewled, overwrought from hour after hour of unbearable anticipation. 

He extracted his fingers from within her and brushed her cheek, smearing it with her own wetness. “You want me?  You want me to fill you?”

“More than anything, Loki!  More than anything.  Fuck me!”

Suddenly, as if he had been waiting for this confirmation, he began to change.  A chill permeated the air and Reader shuddered as Loki’s alabaster complexion darkened to a raw, wintry blue.  Reader gasped in frightened awe as he rose to undress, wholly revealed to her in his Jotun form.

“What’s wrong, girl?  Not quite what you wanted?  Am I not what you expected?” he said with nostrils flaring and eyes blazing red.  His tone was taunting, but, Reader sensed, a bit wounded, too. 

Loki climbed on top of her and precum dripped from his erection, falling like snowflakes upon her fevered skin.  He laid her back and positioned himself so that the tip of his frigid prick played at the warm entrance to her vagina.  Reader struggled to hide her apprehension but could not stifle a whimper as he pressed against her _._ He sneered, _“Does my true form disgust you? Is the cold too much…? Good. I want to know how it feels to be inside you like this,”_ and at once he plunged into her to the very hilt of his manhood, huge and hard and bitter cold. 

Reader winced and trembled violently, numbed from within.  She screwed her eyes shut, focused on enduring the icy sting of his lovemaking, but Loki demanded, “No, no, look at me!” 

When she opened her eyes, he was staring intently at her face.  “You’re doing so well for me, little one.  Relax,” he huffed; his cool fingers swept the hair back from her forehead.  “Relax, I promise, I will make it worth every ounce of discomfort.  Do this for me and I will do anything for you.” 

Reader bit her lip, dug her fingers into his back, and yielded to her king’s passion.  It was not at all like she had imagined; it was alien, it was terrifying—but wonderful, too.  

 “You are so tight…so warm…” he panted with quickening thrusts. 

She squeezed, bearing down on his cock, holding him to her.  “Loki… Loki…” she murmured, perfectly lost in the rapture of their union, the consummation of all her greatest desires.

He threw his head back and jerked free from her, grunting and stroking his bursting erection until viscous spurts of semen landed thick across her belly.  He laughed as he beheld her beneath him, shaking and wilted upon his bed.  “Well done, pretty mortal,” he crooned approvingly as she wiped herself clean with the silken bed sheet.  Reader watched his blue skin thaw to fair and his eyes reclaim their brilliant green.

 “You have earned a reward.  Spread wide, my sweet, and melt for me,” he said as he deliberately parted her vulnerable folds with his thumbs and buried his face voraciously within, plying, manipulating and penetrating her with his nimble fingers, swirling and flicking his tongue, as if he could not touch or taste her enough. 

Every lick of the god’s now-hot tongue assuaged the piercing cold that his Jotun touch had left between her legs.  She clenched his head with her thighs, writhing shamelessly as she entwined her fingers in his dark hair and rocked her hips insistently toward his mouth. 

Her muscles convulsed, her back arched and her hips bucked wildly, fingers and toes clutching at the sheets as heaving sobs erupted from her lips.  She crumpled limply onto the bed, gulping for air, skin glistening with perspiration, exhausted and euphoric and completely warmed through.  Loki crawled forward and collapsed on the pillow next to her, and together they basked in the serene afterglow of their sultry excess. 

In time Loki shifted, leaning on his elbow and smiling smugly at Reader, “You will be sore tomorrow.” 

Reader mumbled a weary affirmative.

“I will take you home.  I will leave you on your bed and you will wake up in the morning, drenched with sweat and arousal, wondering if it was all a dream.  But you will be sore tomorrow and you will remember.”

Reader lifted her head up off the pillow and, with a devilish glint in her eye, placed her hand gently over his crotch.  “Loki… I could stay the night.” 

 “Oh, but I’m finished with you,” Loki chuckled.  “You have done well, pleased me, but the god of mischief is not accustomed to sharing his bed.  Not tonight.”  He laid his hand upon hers and, in an instant, they were in Reader’s own unremarkable Earthly bed.

Reader scowled at him, making no attempt to disguise her disappointment.  The god’s mouth twitched and he said, “Fret not, little lamb, I think I’ve developed a taste for you.  You will see me again, I should guess.  But until I decide I want you back, you will ache and pine.  You will see me where I am not, you will feel my touch when you are by yourself and you will be driven nearly to madness hearing the dirty whispers of your king on the wind.” 

As if summoned by his words, the curtains fluttered with a rustle and a cold draft passed through the room.  Reader turned her head to check the window and saw that it was closed; when she looked back to reply to Loki, she found she was alone once more.

 


End file.
